


Sit in Judgement of Anders

by MadMax17



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Inquisitor Lavellan - Freeform, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Sit in Judgement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:55:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMax17/pseuds/MadMax17
Summary: The Inquisition has found the apostate Anders and has decided to bring him to trial, to be judged by Inquisitor Lavellan. How will the people of Skyhold react to his sentence?





	

The mage was pushed forward, stumbling but refusing to fall in front of the large throne. Looking up he dimly noted the thing looked horrendous, spikes formed what was supposed to be a sun where the inquisitor rested his head, the design meant to impose. Cool blue eyes looked at him, assessing quietly. Blood shone off of his black leather clothing and a light bow rested against the side of the throne, indicating he had just returned from a mission. He had bags under his eyes but looked at the prisoner clearly.  
An Orlesian woman in gold and blue stepped forward, clearing her throat before speaking. “We bring before you Inquisitor, the apostate Anders, who is charged with many things, however, the most noteworthy would be the death of seventy-two holy persons of Kirkwall as well as twenty four civilians and the destruction of Kirkwall’s chantry.”  
Inquisitor Lavellan remained silent as she continued listing off his crimes. Anders’ defiance to bow seemed to anger some of the people who came to watch his sentencing, they shouted and tried pushing through the soldiers who tried keeping them out of the hall.  
“Bloody mage!” some of them shouted.  
“Abomination!”  
They called out vile things, called mages vile things and his heart sped up, he clenched his jaw with anger. Even when they were still mourning the loss of their Divine, when they mourned the loss of holy mothers and lay sisters they couldn't just blame the man who had caused them grief but instead they chose to blame his gifts.   
“Inquisitor, what say you?” the Orlesian finished, turning to the small elf on a chair much too big for him.   
Lavellan stood and walked over to Anders silently, stopping a few feet away and looking up at him.  
“I have but one question, sir,” he said softly.  
“And what is that?” Anders growled, his eyes flashing blue before receding back into their normal amber.  
“Why did you do it?” He calmly crossed his arms and looked at him expectedly, as if waiting for a real answer. As if he were honestly curious to about the reasonings behind a “mad man’s” decision.  
He frowned. “Surely they've told you-”  
“I want to hear it from you Anders,” he said.  
He swallowed thickly. “If you're looking for regret you won't find it here,” he bit out. “I was willing to die then and I am now.”  
“Clearly you have some extreme beliefs, that you hold yourself to which I admire,” he sighed. “Just answer the question.”  
“Anders!” Hawke shouted from the door, pushing her way through the crowd and into the tense hallway. Anders looked surprised and turned away from his lover, glaring at the ground.  
“Champion, as you can see I'm busy,” Lavellan said, looking over Anders shoulder at her. “I will speak with you in a moment, go to the war room.”  
“Please,” she said, panting. “Please don't kill him. Please he-”  
“Marian,” the elf snapped. “Now.”  
Varric came up to the Champion and grabbed her arm comfortingly, leading her away. But she wouldn't go far, merely leaning against the wall by the exit and glaring at the elf.  
“Now,” he said, turning back to Anders. “Please answer the question.”  
“‘Please’?” he scoffed. “Really? Like you'd care what my answer is, all of you are the same. You don't care about the injustices performed, you don't care about what we've suffered.” Anders began glowing a light blue but did his best to make it recede.  
Lavellan sighed annoyed before grabbing him by the shackles roughly, leading him into a secluded hallway with Marian and Varric close behind. Shutting the door softly he threw the blonde man against a wall and leaned in, imposing despite the incredible height difference.  
“I'm going to say this here and now,” he hissed, his icy eyes showing emotion for the first time since he'd seen him. “Don't think you know me or my beliefs. I asked a simple question and I expect a simple answer.”  
“I-Inquisitor please,” Marian said shakily.  
“Champion, shut it,” he growled.  
Anders remained silent, glaring down at the elf. Lavellan sighed before speaking again. “I have a mage sister, Anders. I'm not your enemy here,” he said softly. “Were this world but a bit different, she could have been one of the ones you set free.”  
Anders gaze softened just the smallest amount.  
“Now, we are going to go back into the hall,” he whispered. “You are to suppress that spirit of yours or there will only be more trouble, and I expect an answer to my question.”  
“How do you know about-”  
“The champion has told me of you,” he said, walking toward the door. “I know enough to understand the situation.”  
As he led Anders out he couldn't stop thinking of what might come of this, he was prepared to face judgment, but he worried for Marian. He knew she wouldn't just sit by and watch him be executed. He sighed.  
The Inquisitor stopped him in front of the ghastly throne and spoke again, his tone as icy as before. “Now, why did you blow up your Chantry?”  
“Still as eloquent as ever,” Marian whispered nervously, her eyes darting about the room.  
Anders took a deep breathe before speaking. “I was tired of seeing atrocious crimes committed because people with power were afraid,” he said, his eyes lighting with passion. “Somebody had to take a bloody stand! Mages are being treated worse than cattle, children ripped from their parents, and everyone else made to be terrified because of a person's birth!”  
He remained silent as the mage spoke. “I was tired of my passive attempts being ignored, there was nothing else I could think to do. I do not regret my actions because I know I gave some the courage they didn't have before to face an injustice.”  
His chains rattled as he clenched his hands into fists and he looked at the ground bitterly. “I await your bloody judgment.”  
The elf walked around the room slowly, touching random things softly, thinking. “I hereby absolve you of your crimes,” he said. “Provided you work for me as part of the Inquisition. Let's make the world a better place for mages, together.”  
Anders looked at him shocked. “You can't be serious.”  
“I am entirely serious,” he said, staring at the mage.  
“Then...yeah, yeah I am,” he said grinning.  
Everyone was silent, even the rioters outside the door for a count of three...two...one…  
“Inquisitor, you can't be serious!” the commander, a Templar Anders thought was familiar, shouted from the door, trying to keep angry people out.  
He glared at him. “I am entirely serious.”  
“Inquisitor, you can't do this!”  
“Bloody elf!”  
“I'll kill you!”  
People from outside shouted at him as he unlocked the shackles on Anders’ wrists. “Come Anders,” he said softly, grabbing his hand and leading him through a few passageways.  
Opening a large door with a loud creak they stepped onto a small platform that seemed nearly perfect for the great Inquisitor to give speeches.  
He cleared his throat softly before speaking at the angry men and women on the ground. “I am your Inquisitor, yes? But you are the Inquisition,” he said loudly. “I trust you all to make decisions necessary on the battlefield or when providing our soldiers with supplies. Just as you trust me to make decisions to best aid our cause.”  
“But Inquisi-” a man began with an Orlesian accent   
“You would not have given me this role if you did not believe I were up to the task,” he said. “And you would not have had me judge this man unless you trusted me to make the best decision.”  
The crowd fell silent. “I am Inquisitor Lavellan, but WE are all the Inquisition. None of us would have gotten here were it not for each other. This mage,” he gestures to Anders who steps forward a bit, “was more than willing to die for his beliefs. He was aware of what he did, but he had no regrets. Would we not all want to live like that?”  
The Inquisitor placed his leather clad hand over his heart. “You trusted a dalish, an elf, on your throne, however, that's all many of you see me as and not as any of my accomplishments on said throne. Most view me as nothing but a pair of pointed ears.”  
Anders was staring at the elf as he spoke, anxious as he continued. “This man was only ever viewed as a mage, never a healer or a lover or friend. How would you like to simply be known as the one thing the world hates about you? If you believe I was sent by your Maker to save this world, then you must believe he still makes mages what they are for a reason, you must believe he wants to save this world! He has agreed to join the Inquisition, he has agreed to help fight with us for a better world. Help us, help me, make this a better place for mages.”  
The crowd doesn't speak, a chilling silence falls over the people assembled. The Inquisitor bows slightly before turning away from the crowd and walking back inside with Anders close on his heels. Shutting the door behind himself, the small elf leans against the rough wood and breathes out shakily.  
“A-are you alright?” he asks Anders.  
“I believe I should be asking you that,” the blonde man says. “That was...Maker that was incredible! I've never seen so many nobles dumbstruck!”  
Lavellan smiled softly before sighing. “I guess I should get ready to face the music,” he says.  
“What do you mean?”   
“Nobody is going to like what I just said,” he said, rubbing his hand through his long hair. “There'll probably be riots, and that's if we are lucky. I recommend you hide out for a bit if you plan to stay here. Marian knows a hidden way from here to her room if you wish to stay with her, if you desire your own room let me know and I will arrange it.”  
He pushed himself off the wall and began walking away. “I-Inquisitor,” Anders said.   
The elf sighed before turning toward him. “Please call me Vanarel,” he said softly. “It's my name, I'm tired of being ‘Inquisitor Lavellan’ all the bloody time.”  
“Vanarel,” Anders said. “Thank you.”  
The smaller man nodded before turning away again and stepping into the main hall.  
“I-Inquisitor,” the Orlesian woman from earlier rushed up to him. “You can't mean to truly absolve him of his crimes, there will be outrage. Please for the sake of-”  
“Inquisitor!” another voice shouted from the doorway before it closed firmly. The heavily armed woman was glaring down at the elf, the murderous look on her face seemed to make the scar more jagged and frightening looking.  
Varric grabbed Anders’ arm and nodded toward Hawke who led him away from the women’s sight while she and Vanarel argued.  
“That man should be put to death for what he did,” she screamed. “Maker knows what will happen to our reputation but what of justice, Inquisitor? He started the war between mages and templars!”  
“From what I understand of the situation, your mages and templars would have been at war without him,” Vanarel reasoned. “There were already tensions, things needed to be resolved.”  
“You've heard of what he did,” she growled. “He set so many things off, he's the reason the conclave was needed! He's why...he's to blame for the Divine being where she was...why she died…”  
He glared at her before yawning and walking away mumbling something about needing a nap. This seemed to just piss her off more as she reached for her sword.  
“Inquisitor, I will not allow you to simply walk away from this,” she growled, pointing her blade at him. “I've followed many of your orders blindly but this is where I draw the line.”  
She swung her large blade which he avoided easily, jumping back and landing shakily on the armrests of the throne. He grabbed his bow quickly and pointed it at her, his icy stare stopping her in her tracks.  
“Cassandra, I don't wish to hurt you but I will should the need arise,” he said softly. “This was my decision to make and I made it.”  
Commander Cullen cleared his throat. “Cassandra is right Inquisitor,” he said. “There will be an uproar.”  
The elf shrugged. “I've already made my decision. Apparently closing a blasted hole in the sky and stopping the end of the bloody world couldn't please them enough to allow me one decision of my own,” he said.  
“I believe the Inquisitor is right,” the Orlesian woman said. “If we are to begin a new way of thinking towards mages then certainly Anders would be the best way to start.”  
“Thank you Josephine,” he said. “Now if you'll all excuse me, I'd like to sleep.” He started walking toward Hawke.  
“You rooming with me again?” she asked, her fingers interlaced with Anders’.  
Vanarel smiled softly. “No, I simply need to grab a few things I left there last night. I assume you two would like to be alone,” he said, walking ahead of the two.  
“What, are you kidding?” she laughs. “You are going out of your damn way to make sure I get to wake up next to this,” she points at Anders, “everyday. I'd give you all of Kirkwall for that.” She rushed up and picked up the elf by his waist, hugging the small boy tightly.  
Vanarel grimaced. “I think I'll just take your thanks.”  
Anders chuckled a bit under his breathe.   
They walked to Marian’s chamber in the battlements. The room was sparsely furnished, with a bed and a small couch, which the Inquisitor had had added when he spent one night sleeping at the foot of her bed and woke up with bruises from being kicked all night, and a writing desk covered with crumpled sheets of parchment. The young elf had stayed in her chamber a few times when sleeping alone in his large room just hadn't worked for him, nightmares keeping him awake in the emptiness, and the kind woman had been more than willing to allow this. Apparently having another warm body in the room had helped her as well, her own nightmares occurring less and less.  
Vanarel rubbed his eyes, grabbing the thin blanket off the couch and wrapping himself in it before turning to Marian and Anders.  
“I believe I've imposed enough,” he said softly. “If you'll...if you'll excuse me I'll just…”  
He trailed off and began falling, only kept from hitting the hard ground by Anders’ quick movements.  
“H-hey,” he shouted. “Vanarel!”  
“Shh,” Marian scolded Anders, placing a gentle finger to the blonde’s lips. “Don't wake him.”  
Anders nodded looking down at the small elf he held in his arms before gently placing him on the couch. She managed to unwrap the blanket from around him and covered the boy’s small body in it properly.  
“Poor thing,” she says softly. “Hasn't slept in days.”  
“What? Why?” Anders asked, frowning.  
“He's the inquisitor, love. He has more duties than I ever did in Kirkwall,” she says. “He barely has time to do anything other than work. He can barely even find time to hunt.”  
“Hunt?”  
“It helps him calm down when things get overwhelming, and he hands all the meat over to the kitchens,” Marian whispers, peeling off her armor silently.  
Anders looked at the small elf’s vulnerable form, he reminded of another elf from his time in Amaranthine, who spent his free time in much of the same way. Forced into a role he hadn't been ready for either.   
“Come love,” she whispered, kissing Anders’ shoulder and wrapping her arms around the mage’s waist. “You should sleep too.”  
He nodded and allowed himself to be led to the soft bed with warm sheets and an even warmer body to hold him. The soft sounds of snores soon filled the room, intermingling as they all rested, waiting to deal with any problems the Inquisitor’s decision may cause until tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! I've had this written for awhile now and have just never uploaded it so I'd love to know what you think!


End file.
